


Stranded

by thedeadflag



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadflag/pseuds/thedeadflag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana is given the task to retrieve Quinn from her sleepy cottage out in buttfuck nowhere, southern Ohio. All for a stupid glee Christmas party. All because Brittany asked her nicely. Or, well, pouted nicely. Sure, Quinn told Santana to leave her be that holiday, which she had planned on doing, but hey…Quinn won’t mind having a visitor, would she?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranded

Santana Lopez was not a happy girl. As she drove down the wintery county road toward her destination, she considered all of the words that could describe her current mood. Furious, agitated, incensed, raging, fuming, livid, rabid, frenetic; none seemed to fully capture how horrifically pissed off she was about being roped into her current mission. It only sucked worse that it was taking part in a damned blizzard. It was rare that Britt used her wiles to coerce her into doing anything, but Santana had fallen victim to the blonde's pout.

It wasn't fair in the least; Puck had volunteered her home as the party venue for the glee club's Christmas celebration, yet there she was, almost a hundred and seventy-five miles away, heading to the Fabray cottage in Buttfuck, Nowhere. Meanwhile, Britt was probably spending the afternoon with Wheels, getting cozy on the bastard's lap while she was fetching Quinn. The blonde had left after her last exam of the semester, insisting that she wanted to spend the holidays alone at her cottage to take a break from the world; Quinn's mom had left the state to visit Franny and her fiancée for the second half of December, and it seemed to rub her the wrong way. And of course, once Britt learned about that, the dancer insisted that someone go get Quinn and bring her to their party to cheer her up and make her feel included. And since she and Britt had been the only people in glee who had been to the cottage, and Britt was bad with directions, Santana had been sent away. All while the rest of the club decorated her house with shit that Santana was sure no one would bother to clean up afterward except for Rachel.

Britt had made her leave around eleven, hoping that they'd get back by six, because the party was set to start at seven. Santana felt fortunate that she'd taken her father's SUV because the snow was a lot thicker down there in the boonies, and it was still falling pretty damn hard. A little snow was always alright, she figured, but a mountain of it just made it hell to get around, and the long-ass driveway to the cottage was pretty much covered in close to a foot and a half of snow.

Eventually, she pulled up, parking beside Quinn's snow-covered car. Santana wasn't sure how she'd go about wrangling the blonde away from her holiday hide-out, mostly because the weather had been too poor during the trip to focus on anything else, but she'd always been able to get Quinn to do stuff for her. It usually just took a bit of time, with the occasional bribe or promise. It was then that she regretted bringing the cooler full of frozen bacon as a peace offering.

Deciding that she may as well get it over with, Santana got out of the car and tromped her way over to the door as quickly as she could before she could be mistaken for a snowman. Santana left three quick, sharp knocks on the door, waiting impatiently as snow whirled around her, not enjoying the lack of cover the slight overhang had. It seemed ridiculous that a cabin would have a porch facing goddamn water instead of one facing the driveway. _Seriously, how else are people supposed to weather snowstorms in peace when they're visiting and waiting for one of the damn Fabrays to open the door? I'd consider walking around the damn house to get to the back door, but there's too much snow…seriously, if Quinn doesn't answer soon, I'll flip!_

Another three sharp knocks later and she heard something from inside the home. Breathing a sigh of relief, she listened past the sound of the snowstorm, hearing the pattering of feet approaching, before the door swung open a few inches, Quinn's face half hidden behind it.

"San?" the blonde asked, clearly all kind of confused by her scrunched up her face was. After waiting a grand total of one and a half seconds, Santana started tapping her foot on the snow covered little welcome mat, getting impatient about the fact that Quinn wasn't immediately letting her in.

"Come on, Q, if you don't let me in I'll stab you with my frozen nips." She ground out, Quinn rolling her eyes at her, but she was serious. They felt like full on ice-picks, and Santana was sure she could slice someone open with them.

The door promptly opened and Quinn ushered her into the confines of the cottage, away from the frigid winter air. "What the hell are you doing here, Santana?" Quinn seemed a little annoyed as she spoke, her brow furrowed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. It all seemed a bit over the top to Santana. So what if she arrived unannounced after Quinn said she wanted to be alone? She didn't think it was all that crazy of a disruption or anything.

"Like that's any way to greet a guest Q, gimme a break! Can't I just drop by to see you or whatever?" she asked as she slid off her boots, taking a moment to hang her coat on the rack, thankful to be free of its bulk.

Quinn let out a long, exasperated sigh and crossed the floor to lean on the banister for the stairwell. "Look, I came here to be alone, I told you I wanted to be alone, so I'm not sure where, in all of that, you thought to yourself 'Hey, I should visit Quinn'!" the blonde ranted, her eyes flashing with annoyance as her hand seemed to grip the wooden railing pretty damn hard. _Well, maybe she's a little more than annoyed…whatever, I have a job…_

"Q, you've never been able to stand being alone. Even earlier this year when you tried to go all 'loner punk' on us, you were a loner with sidekicks." She noted with a snicker, recalling the absolutely ludicrous fashion catastrophe Quinn was earlier in the year. Sure, it'd been fun to see her step out of her comfort zone with that choppy pink hair and those torn clothes, and it wasn't like Quinn stopped being hot or anything, but it just wasn't Quinn. It hadn't fit her, and it was kind of hilarious that she'd jumped into the punk cliché that was so obviously a perfect contrast against her regular prissy preacher's daughter look she'd rocked for as long as Santana knew her. And because Santana knew her blonde friend, she wasn't surprised when the girl glared at her for laughing. Nor was she surprised when Quinn turned and started marching off upstairs, so Santana knew she'd need a distraction before the girl's rage built. "Remember when you'd be grounded and sent to your room for 'alone time', and you'd flash morse code at my bedroom window because you got lonely? Q, is it so hard to believe I'd be here to check up on you?"

"Yes." Was the answer that she received immediately, the short unequivocally revealing the blonde's certainty. Sure, Quinn had been right, but it still kind of sucked to hear that, so she improvised.

"Okay, okay…look, Britt was telling everyone that she missed you, and I volunteered to go get you because I like having you around to glare at people with me. Two birds with one stone, happy?" she asked, hoping the clarification would soften the blonde up, especially because it was pretty accurate, but she simply took another slow step up the staircase.

Deciding she'd have to step it up, she went to follow, but Quinn's head spun around as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "What do you mean 'everyone'? And no, I'm not happy…go away, San."

"If you need cheering up, I've got frozen bacon in the car…" she stated, letting her voice trail off teasingly as her friend eyed her curiously, before turning around, crossing her arms. Realizing Quinn wanted her to answer the other, absolutely dumb, unnecessary question, she let out a sigh as a show of frustration. Because seriously, Quinn knew she hated explaining easy shit. "Look, the gleeks wanted to host a party and for some fucking reason, Puck invited them to my place without telling me. So there I am at, like, seven last night at the Lima Bean and all of glee shows up and I'm flipping out because they're springing this shit on me, and then I ended up volunteering myself to come get you."

"Because you want me to glare at people with you and share your misery." Quinn noted flatly, though Santana was perceptive, she spied with her little eye the slight upward curl of her friend's lips.

She took another step up toward the blonde. "Don't pretend you wouldn't like it, Q. You think people suck almost as much as I do, and I really, really want you there." She answered, earning a scoff from Quinn as the girl started back up the stars again. "Seriously, Rachel and Finn are disgusting, and I'm gonna have to deal with the Chang twins necking all night, not to mention Britt getting cozy with the transformer."

"So you want me because you're mad at Britt and need someone else to sulk with." Quinn quipped sharply as she neared the top of the stairs. "It's been four months, get over it, San."

Santana didn't know much, but she did know that she wouldn't take that lying down, especially since Quinn hadn't ever spoken to her about Britt since her potentially compromised BFF started dating Wheels again. "I'm sorry that couples tend to disgust me, Q. And I'm over Britt, I'm just trying to be her friend and shit now." Santana was sure Quinn wasn't getting calmer, and despite that being her initial goal, her pride was a little hurt and she kind of put her priority on setting Quinn straight.

Normally, Santana liked Quinn's laugh. It was usually a sweet, melodic, joyful thing that let her know her old friend Lucy was still in there, in all her exuberant glory. However, the girl at the top of the stairs' laugh was a different; it was harder, with a harsh, staggered tone to it. Santana couldn't help but be a little unnerved. "Really, S? Friends? You're gonna pull that card right now?" Quinn asked, her tone low and seething with anger that Santana hadn't expected. Still, she ascended the rest of the stairs, her hand on the banister as Quinn met her at the top. "She probably just tossed out that pout and you were a good little dog and obeyed."

Santana swallowed the bite of the girl's words and glared back at her incensed friend, channeling some of the anger she felt throughout the trip over to the cottage. "Fuck you! Are you really bringing this shit up now? I can say no!"

"When?!" Quinn yelled out, moving within an inch or two of her, their noses nearly touching from their proximity. "Anything she says, you do! Anywhere she goes, you follow! Anyone who…"

"I loved her, Quinn!" she interrupted, though she honestly hadn't expected to blurt out those specific words. She'd meant for some expletives or some incendiary remarks about how silly Quinn had been about her cold, lifeless relationships with the boys she'd dated. "I was her fucking girlfriend!"

"No, she just fucked you!" the blonde shot out, and Santana felt her arms move before she could even think, shoving Quinn back slightly, too taken aback by the girl's words to put any decent amount of energy into it, and it seemed Quinn realized that. "That's what you got, San! She was too freaking innocent to have any damn clue what you felt for her, so when someone came along and said all the right words, ones she could understand, she left you. And you can't take it so you still do what she says because you still want her, but she doesn't even think about you!"

"At least I had someone who looked at me and saw something more than a fucking hole!" she shot back, though she mostly meant it within her own context. Because Britt had actually liked her for her, unlike everyone else, but as the words left her mouth, she could see that Quinn thought they were directed at her. Which made for a good insult, but not really anything she was aiming for. It was bittersweet to see the sheer hurt across the blonde's face.

Maybe it was because she was too busy staring at Quinn's expression that she didn't see the slap coming, but it hit her hard. Quinn was always a genius slapper, and that one was worthy of a PhD by how it had knocked her off balance, sending her stumbling back. Santana's left foot didn't find any footing when it stepped back, and she could only try to reach out and grab hold of something as she fell.

* * *

It was almost comical how everything around Quinn seemed to slow to a crawl when her hand impacted against Santana's face. Never in her life had she truly caught the girl off guard before; she'd slapped her friend seven times before, and in each, her friend had at least braced for it in some way. It was weird to have finally gotten the girl with the full force of her hand; it was something she'd never actually expected would happen in her entire life. Yet there was Santana, stumbling backward, the girl's shocked expression only making her feel worse about what she'd said before. She knew Santana would rile her up after she'd baited her, the girl always did. If Santana was anything, she was honest about the important stuff, and it was that important stuff that had set Quinn off.

Just like how Santana's leg hitting thin air set time in motion again, and had her realizing what was about to happen because of her own foolish, unchecked aggression. Quinn barely had enough time to scream her friend's name before Santana tumbled violently down the hardwood stairs, her head thankfully cushioned by her arm as she hit the main floor. All the thoughts storming in her mind were overruled by a single one. _No._

"Oh my god, San!" she cried out as she hurried down the stairs, spotting a fresh, bloody wound across the girl's forehead, though she wasn't sure if her words could be heard over the guttural scream escaping Santana. The sound alone had tears spilling down her cheeks. _I did this…I hurt her…_

She quickly reached at Santana to pull the girl onto her back, maybe help see better what damage she'd done, but a quick hand angrily slapped hers away. "D…don't fucking touch me! Stay the fuck away from me!" the girl cried out, a hoarse, pained gasp leaving Santana's lips as she curled further in on herself protectively.

Quinn couldn't help but sob at the sight as she slumped down onto the bottom step. In all her years, she'd never made Santana cry directly. She'd never, ever caused the girl any sort of pain or harm that couldn't be fixed with an apologetic smile or a gift certificate to BreadStix. And Santana had upset her occasionally with names, or with cold silence within McKinley's halls, but she'd always had her back in the Cheerios and out of school. She'd always been a phone-call away if Quinn had needed anything, and it killed her to see the girl curled up in front of her, shaking, angry and betrayed. At least, Quinn felt she'd betrayed her. _Even if she came here just because of Britt, she didn't deserve even those words…she didn't deserve this…_

"San, let me help, please." She whispered between sobs wracking her body; normally she could be calm when upset, it was something her father had forced her to learn. It was different, seeing her childhood savior bleeding and broken in front of her. "I'm so, so sorry, San. Let me fix you up, please."

The room was quiet with the sound of two girls trying desperately to keep hold of their emotions, both failing just enough for Quinn to let her failure seep in. She couldn't look away, not with her friend in need of help, and the sight sapped away at her ability to breathe the longer that Santana remained silent.

"Fuck." The girl whimpered, her other hand slowly, with a pained hiss, coming up to touch the bloody gash on her head. "Q…gimme a washcloth."

It took her a moment to will her legs to move, and her head followed Santana's fallen form as long as it could until she was out of view, her body carrying her to the bathroom. Quickly, she grabbed the first aid kit, grabbed a washcloth, and rushed back to her friend.

She tried to reach out again but Santana squirmed away, her hands not rising to attack that time, but in defense. It made Quinn flinch back with shame, her hand ever so slightly grazing her friend's hands with the washcloth.

Santana grabbed it slowly and brought it to her head, the girl's body jolting slightly as it made contact, a soft cry echoing in the empty foyer. Quinn wiped away her tears and tried to be useful for once, focusing on the darker girl's body to see if anything looked broken or anything. Nothing stood out too much after a few seconds, but it did seem that every time Santana shifted her body, she winced. Noticing her friend hadn't moved much since her fall, she could only imagine that the girl's shoulder might be fractured or dislocated. It was a hard fall, and those floors weren't the least bit soft.

As Santana held the cloth to the head wound, Quinn knelt beside her, palms facing toward herself, figuring that the girl would see it as less threatening than facing outward, consider the damage had been done by an open-handed slap and all. "Santana…please…at least let me get you onto the couch in the living room. It's softer there, and…and I need to know you'll be alright."

She watched Santana's expression harden momentarily, though it was hard to see Santana as the same determined girl when her lip was quivering and her mascara was streaming wildly across her face. "O…one minute. It's all you get…help lay me down." The girl stated angrily; if Quinn couldn't see Santana, and hadn't heard her voice catch at the start, she would have thought Santana was fine and dandy. Quinn did as she was bid and slowly, cautiously got Santana onto her back, her fears detected as she helped the girl move into a sitting position.

Quinn hated seeing her friend in so much pain, and she knew dislocated shoulders were hell most of the time. Most of the cheerios would usually get her or the Coach to help if ever it happened during practice, but Santana had always gone it alone. As Santana leaned back, applying pressure as she held her knee, she tried to ignore the girl's muttered expletives, painful wheezing, and stifled whimpers. Her friend had her eyes closed as always, never enjoying it when anyone saw her vulnerable or hurting.

When it finally popped back into place, Santana let out a loud scream, Quinn taking advantage to quickly scoop the pained girl up and rush her into the living room. Cautiously, she dropped the shaking girl on the couch, temporarily ignoring the sobs filling the room as she went back to grab some painkillers, some butterfly stitches, and some water.

The half a minute away from Santana was pure torture, just hearing the agony that she'd put her closest friend through. _I'm a horrible, horrible person…God, why did I hit her?! Why did I have to get so angry? It's not like it's a surprise that she…she…but she actually said the damn words, and…God…I fucked up so, so badly…_

She returned and gently placed the glass of water into one of Santana's hands, having to pry the other away from the girl's eyes to place the pills in it. "Take these...I know you're hurting. I'm so sorry, San."

Her friend quickly took them, still wincing as she moved her damaged arm, and then turned away from Quinn, facing the backrest. Just seeing Santana shut her out like that was heartbreaking. Knowing it was fully justified made her chest tighten and her breathing unsteady. Deciding to give the girl some space, she moved to the far side of the room and curled up in her favourite chair, covering herself entirely in a blanket so she could pretend the world didn't exist. That she hadn't just killed her best, longest friendship in her life simply because she was feeling something she'd never chosen to feel and had let herself be angry enough to act on it.

* * *

Santana awoke to darkness and pain. Her whole body ached something fierce, but at least her shoulder was feeling a little better, and her head was stitched up; it was clear that the meds that put her to sleep were fading, and that soon enough the pain would return. It all seemed so bizarre, as she'd taken harder tumbles in her life, but that one had hurt the most. Santana would never say it out loud, but she adored Quinn, the girl was practically her best, closest friend. Sure, Britt was her BFF, but Quinn gave her the honesty and perspective that her ex-girlfriend couldn't, and that was something Santana had always valued. It was a big reason why she didn't explode on Quinn upstairs, and instead tried to help the blonde see her side of things. That, and Santana knew that the girl had a point. She knew that she had a really hard time saying no to Britt, and that it was a problem. It just sucked being called out on it.

It sucked even more to have been slapped into another dimension, and the fall was just the icing on the fucking cake. Her shoulder hurt like hell, her whole body ached, and Santana was pretty sure she strained her right wrist a little, but it didn't hurt as much as the fact that Quinn actually hurt her. If Santana were to be truthful, she still hadn't wrapped her mind around that yet. The girl was usually really nice and patient with her, and spared her the usual ice-queen behavior; the blonde had only ever attacked her in self defense before, and they'd quickly healed things up between them after that incident in junior year. So she was kind of freaked out a little bit.

Thankfully, though, her brain started to work as she came out of her daze, realizing that it was damn dark in the home. Not only had the sun set outside, but none of the lights were on inside; it was clear that she wouldn't be getting back to Lima in time for the party like Britt had hoped, and it probably meant that the power was out. The low light made it a bit difficult to see, the only source in the room was the small fire that was going in the fireplace. It didn't exactly warm up the room, the air surprisingly cool, though Santana was pleased to be warm under the blankets she was covered in. She wasn't sure when she'd been given them, but she was kind of thankful. Santana was still pissed at Quinn for what she did, but she knew the girl regretted it, or she wouldn't have been so broken up about it afterward. She figured she'd milk the blonde for all she was worth, and maybe then she'd forgive Quinn.

 _Speak of the devil…_ she mused, as the back door opened, Quinn shaking off the snow as she tossed off her coat. Santana watched silently with barely opened eyes, deciding to be a little sneaky, see what the girl was up to. It was only when the blonde got closer that she realized she was carrying firewood, placing it on the shelf beside the fireplace along with a heck of a lot of other pieces. Santana saw Quinn put the four quartered pieces of wood in their secure shelf and, after hesitating for a moment, trudge back toward the door. Normally, she'd be keeping a closer eye on her friend, but she was too busy counting the fairly large pieces of wood, seeing at least twenty. _That's, like, five trips…and their shed's like, all the way back near the tree line. Not a long walk, but in this snow and this weather…_ she thought to herself, hearing the howling winds outside. _There's enough wood in here for Berry to build a dam for her woodland friends and family…_

About ten minutes later Quinn returned again with another four, filling the shelf entirely, before slumping down onto the floor. Santana could see Quinn was shivering, the girl biting her lip as she stared into the warm glow of the fire. The blonde slipped her coat off, absentmindedly discarding it onto the floor beside her, before lying down on the furry rug nearby; Santana peeked around the room, spotting a number of blankets the girl could use to keep warmer, but Quinn just remained by the fire. She hoped her friend would stay warm enough there. It didn't matter that the girl had nearly accidentally killed her, Santana didn't like seeing Quinn upset or uncomfortable unless it was after a good-natured prank, or payback for something.

Despite usually being a raging mega-bitch, she really didn't have the heart to treat the two blondes in her life that way; Britt was too sweet and innocent, and Quinn had been dealt a shit hand in her life. It was too hard to be viciously angry at either of them. Heck, it was hard enough simply staying a normal kind of angry for any length of time. So when she heard Quinn crying down there on the rug, with unrestrained, choking sobs escaping her, it was kind of really freaking sad. There wasn't anything for the blonde to gain from it, it wasn't a show, it was her other best friend crying her eyes out and showing some damn honest emotion. And just like that, most of her anger slipped away, replaced by worry. Lucy had been a really emotional girl, and while she'd only rarely been exposed to that side of Quinn, she knew it was there, and saw it in the blonde curled up on the rug.

"Ugh, Q…you know I can't take it when you cry…" Santana whispered out, causing Quinn to sit up so fast that she feared the girl would get whiplash. Almost as quickly, the blonde scurried over to the couch, to kneel by her side, the girl's hand hesitantly hovering above Santana's head before fingers slid through her raven locks. It was something that always made her feel better, and Quinn always gave the best scalp massages. "You owe me like, twenty thousand massages for botching the job, blondie. Sue would totes be miffed about both your sloppy execution and style. The stairs, Q? Seriously? Amateur."

Quinn made this weird strangled gasp that morphed into an equally weird shuddering laugh, the girl's cheeks glimmering and wet, what with the dull light of the flames highlighting her face. Santana was at least happy to get her friend laughing again, because hey, it was an accident, and she'd make sure that Quinn pampered her to shit until she was better. And then everything would be back to normal and good.

"San, do…do you need anything? Food or water? Meds? Blankets? Are you warm? The power's out and…and I'm…" Quinn started rambling frantically, looking her over as if she was about to have some sort of aneurysm or a baby or something, so Santana cut her off.

"No shit the power's out...just because you slapped me five years into the future doesn't mean that I don't know a power outage when I see one, Q." she answered with a chuckle, her ribs hurting a little as she laughed. "And what was with the lumberjack routine? You're fucking freezing." Santana finished, her hand grabbing hold of Quinn's other hand, which was cool to the touch.

"I needed to make sure you'd be warm enough." The blonde mumbled, moving her hand away from Santana's and down onto Santana's blanketed stomach. "You…you have to…"

Santana winced as the blonde broke into sobs again, reluctantly pulling her arms out of the warm confines of the blanket and around the girl's shoulders, pulling her into a pseudo-hug. It was the best she could do from her position, really, but Quinn practically flopped onto her and clutched her for dear life. "I know, Q. I know. It's okay…you know me, I'm fine." She cooed into the girl's ear, patting Quinn's back lightly in hopes it would help calm her. She'd never been a genius hugger or anything like Britt, but she usually knew what people were thinking and feeling if she paid close enough attention, and her friend was obviously desperate for reassurance and absolution. "Blondie, I need you to take a deep breath and calm your tits, okay? I know you need to apologize to me so you can feel better, but you can't do that if your eyes are trying to mimic the Niagara Falls." It was weird talking all soft and whatever, but Santana knew that the girl needed to know that it was okay to be upset and sad and everything. Otherwise, Quinn would shut down and distance herself, and Santana didn't want that, not with them stranded in a cabin with a blizzard roaring around them.

Quinn took a few seconds to reel herself in, separating from Santana and placing her hands down by her side. She'd never seen the blonde so distraught and nervous, which was freaky, since the girl had been kicked out of her home and had endured a failed 'fake-the-baby-daddy' plot that embarrassed the shit out of her. Among other things of course, but those had been the previous two major events. Sure, Santana knew Quinn thought of her as a friend, but didn't think that she meant all that much to her. It was a bit weird, and a little flattering. "San, I…I need you to know that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt y…you, and it's all my fault that you fell. I regretted the slap right away and I'm so sorry, I was a bitch."

Santana gave the girl a cheeky smile that seemed to immediately brighten Quinn's mood. "Yeah, you were a bitch, and I still don't know why you slapped me, but…I'll forgive you, Q. Just make sure you work your magic hands and make me better, okay? I'm pretty fucking sore." She responded, holding out a fist; it was their way of committing to deals. Naïve little Lucy in sixth grade had started the tradition, and Santana had found it so utterly hilarious that Lucy would fist-bump that she had to keep it going. At least, after she relentlessly made fun of the girl for a few days over it.

"Do you want one now? I don't want you in pain or anything, San." Quinn rushed out, leaning forward, the brilliant hue of her hazel eyes sadly shadowed under the lighting conditions. The girl's eyes had always been the prettiest part of her by any stretch, and she missed seeing them.

"Nah, you need to warm those puppies up before I let you fondle me, Q. Just get some rest, okay? Climb up on the other side, there's enough blankets for both of us, and you'll be warm in no time. Oh, and I hate to break it to you, but you're just not cut out for beards and flannel, blondie…that, and I don't want rough callused hands on my neck and shoulders or whatever." Santana answered, sitting up just enough to toss an extra pillow over to the other side, haphazardly getting that side prepped. She saw the reluctance in the blonde's face, but she knew it was an awesome idea; Santana was a furnace, and knew that if Quinn shared her body heat, both of them would be all warm and cozy in minutes. And then, she could get a nice massage, and not feel like a zombie was feeling her up. Because seriously, zombies. Gross.

She grinned at the blonde as she slipped onto the other side and got under the blanket, their legs resting beside each others. It was honestly just too shitty of a situation for Santana to make a big deal about being knocked down the stairs or whatever, especially given that she was fine, aside from a short few moments of excruciating pain. They were stuck in a cottage, snowed in without power, and she was feeling kind of lousy. She didn't want to make her friend any more upset, and if that meant she was a pushover, then whatever. She just wanted to feel better and make the best of her time, because she was at least spending it with someone she liked. _It was just an accident…Like she said, she didn't mean to hurt me or anything…and besides, I knocked her around after she told coach about my surgery, and I didn't answer her phone the night she got kicked out because I was too busy getting busy with Britt…so it's not like I'm all innocent…but I'll need to make sure I figure out why she got pissed, because I've rarely seen her that mad before…_

* * *

By some ridiculous twist of fate, Quinn found herself in Santana's good graces again. She knew she honestly didn't deserve to be, but there she was, lying across from the girl, both sharing tales from their youth. They'd been resting together for hours, the time nearing ten o'clock, but it had all gone by so quickly since her friend had forgiven her. It was like all was right in the world again, and she could breathe. Santana was a notorious grudge-holder, and was a straight-up bitch at times, but she was at least straight-up with Quinn whenever they'd feud. She knew that she could trust the girl's word when Santana said that they were fine, because Quinn knew the girl would never lie about anything so serious.

Again, it wasn't something she deserved given her actions, but she was happy as a clam, and hoped that the night could end on a positive note. "You remember that treehouse you helped me build in fourth grade, Q?"

Quinn couldn't help but laugh at the memory. It had taken them twelve days to build, and all their allowances to afford the supplies, but they'd gone out into a small patch of woodland near Santana's home and built a treehouse in the forest. It wasn't perfect by any stretch, and at times it had fallen apart somewhat and needed repairs, but they'd loved it. "How could I not? That place was our home. We worked so hard on it…remember when I fell out of the tree when we were building the roof, and you told my dad that Karofsky pushed me down on the tarmac at school?"

"You know I had your back, Q." the girl across from her chuckled, smiling wistfully, likely at the memories. "We spent that whole summer in there…I remember asking you to name the place and you called it Nebraska. Fucking Nebraska! I swore, I'd never laughed so hard, Q."

She blushed beet red at the memory, recalling the reason why she'd given it that name. In truth, her sister had mentioned offhandedly once that their parents hated Nebraska, and she liked to imagine that in that home, her parents wouldn't find her. That she could be free of their rules, regulations and punishments. That she could just be with Santana and get away from all the stifling sadness in her house, and just be with her partner in crime. "Yeah… but then I screwed up, and my parents found the receipt for all the stuff I bought. I always ruined our fun, San." She noted sadly, wishing that she'd have been successful at keeping one of their fun pastimes free of her parents' involvement throughout her childhood.

"Beh, THEY ruined our fun. Especially your dad. Fucking douchebag questioned the 'structural integrity' of the place. We jumped around and danced and stuff in there, and it held. We did a damn good job, but the jerk tore it all down." Santana ranted quietly, her eyes intense as she stared out the window as the blizzard outside. She looked a bit on edge, chewing her lip a little. "They were always trying to trip you up, Q. It was never your fault."

"Good to know, but it doesn't make me feel much better. They sent me to ballet and gymnastics classes in grade seven outside of town because they didn't want you joining me. Because they thought you were a bad influence." Quinn said, flopping backward onto a pillow and the soft armrest. "It's weird, because you were pretty much the only good thing about my childhood, you know? At least, in retrospect, you were. The summer after grade eight was the worst."

Santana hummed in approval before shifting on the couch, slipping her body between the backrest and Quinn's body, her head resting on the blonde's stomach. Quinn smiled at the gesture, and it only grew when she felt Santana hug her legs. "We were supposed to hang out all summer, but your parents sent you to some shitty cheerleading camp. Even if you came back a fucking bombshell, it was a shitty summer, not hearing you gripe and moan every day." Santana grumbled as she got comfy in her new position, stretching her legs out a bit before re-adjusting the blanket. "You know, I only joined the Cheerios because you did, Q."

She couldn't help but gasp a little, because seriously, Santana had been just as gung ho about it all as she'd been at the start of it all. "Seriously?" she asked, having a really difficult time believing that, because while she knew that Santana would only rarely lie to her, it just didn't make sense.

"You came back from that camp so excited about it, and you looked different, and high school was coming up…I didn't want to lose you, I guess. It sucked enough being away from you all summer, I needed to make sure we'd go into McKinley together…we were partners, you know? And I could dance, so I figured it couldn't be too hard, so long as you were there." Santana explained, and she supposed she could understand. In fact, Quinn understood really well, except when she'd been in that position, she'd done the exact opposite. Thinking back, it was almost purely because of her faith-based upbringing that she'd allowed herself to shut down and keep distance. It had been her biggest mistake, her greatest regret. And to hear that her best friend had made the right decision only hurt more. Ever since near the end of sixth grade, her parents had pushed this specific image onto her, along with a slew of expectations; from then on, she knew the love from her parents was conditional. That it would be earned by meeting certain goals, holding herself a certain way in public, dating certain people. She'd gotten lost in that for a long time, and only that past summer had she finally broken free of the hold her parents had on her in the past. It had been freeing, and she'd celebrated it with a pink dye-job. It was kind of cute, she figured, especially with the choppy haircut Santana had helped her pick out in New York. It was one her biggest regrets, not jumping on the vague offer that her best friend had given her in that hotel room.

Quinn let out a sigh as memories flooded back. "I didn't know that…but I'm glad you joined. I just wish…God, what I'd give to re-do high school." She noted, shaking her head. When she looked back down and spotted Santana's inquisitive expression, complete with raised eyebrow, she felt a little trapped. _Still, Santana's been honest with me…I…I should be honest too_. She mused, as she willed up the courage to speak her mind. "I wish I could have taken back every fight we had. They were all so stupid."

"Q, we've always butted heads. It's how we are… we get pissy with each other and then make up. Hell, even when we're angry with each other, it's never serious or whatever." Santana noted calmly, her hand rubbing light circles on her thighs, which was a really nice feeling, if unexpected. "But I wish I wasn't stupid enough to let you push me away all the time."

"I'm not sure you could have done anything about that, San. I was pretty messed up and sometimes I was just looking for reasons to abandon you." Quinn said, and immediately, Santana's hand stilled in place, the girl looking up slowly with concerned eyes.

" 'Abandon' is a strong word, blondie." The girl noted softly, before lowering her head back onto Quinn's stomach. "I…thought you were pissed at me sometimes, or got frustrated with me, but…you wouldn't have done that to me, right?"

Quinn let out another, longer sigh, biting back her tears as memories of sophomore and junior year passed through her mind. "I wasn't thinking right. I just…I thought I was losing you. You might not have made it easy on me, but I shouldn't have…I should have known you'd stick by me. Instead, I went out of my way to piss you off and make you hate me."

"Q…" The single syllable was laced with so much sorrow that Quinn could barely take it, her panic quickly setting in as Santana detached herself and sat up, looking so utterly confused and betrayed. Quinn had only shown the girl why she hadn't deserved forgiveness, that she'd betrayed her in the past enough for Santana to never trust her again. Even if she was exorcising old demons, she couldn't help the growing well of emotion building in her chest and skull. "Q, I…fuck, you could get BreadStix shut down forever on a health code violation and I'd still be at your side. I'd be pissed, but…look, is this…is this about Britt?"

She ducked her head in shame, her action certainly enough of an answer, but the dragging silence proved only that Santana seemed to want to hear her say the words. "It…I was fine including her. I love Britt, everyone does but…when it stopped being the three of us hanging out, when you two starting spending most of your time together, I felt lost. I'm sorry, okay? I thought I was losing you to her, and I tried…I tried to find other people to pass the time with. Finn, Puck, Sam, Mercedes…none of them helped. I missed you."

It was an unprecedented level of information she was talking about; hell, Quinn had never even spoke a word out loud about her predicament through school, but it felt a little freeing to finally admit she'd missed Santana. It was a start, and she honestly didn't want to stop.

"Quinn, I…I'm sorry. I just…I fell in love with her." Santana stated softly, her hand rubbing Quinn's shin tenderly over the blanket.

"I know, San." Quinn responded quickly, with perhaps a little too much haste, and a wee too sharp of a bite to her delivery.

While the following silence only lasted a few seconds, they were torturous. It was too dark to see Santana's face clearly, the girl having turned her head away just enough to ensure the light from the fire gave nothing away. "You hate her for hurting me, don't you?"

It was a question that she'd considered for months. The first time Santana asked Britt out and was rejected, Brittany's only saving grace was that she'd found out that night, and the other blonde was already gone off to a weekend family gathering, far out of Quinn's reach. And when Britt had broken up with her for Artie after apparent communication issues which Quinn assumed had to do with Santana not being out and proud, she'd been equally furious, but couldn't exactly waltz into Artie's house and assassinate her. But the whole time, there had always been another overriding answer. "I hated her for hurting you, yeah…" she started, her voice trailing off, the words she'd thought for years still lodged in the back of her throat as they had been for so long, only taking different form as context demanded.

"But?" Santana asked, clearly hearing the hesitance in her voice. The girl was nothing if not perceptive, and she regretted speaking that much, because she knew the girl would pester her until her questions were answered.

"But I…" she started, trying to imagine a band-aid being ripped off continuously as a loop in her mind, trying to gain the confidence to at least give her best friend the truth of the matter. Quinn turned her gaze away from the girl and toward the fireplace, not able to even speak anymore while facing the person sitting by her feet. "I hated her because you chose her."

She felt a hand squeeze her calf before she heard Santana shift again, but that time Quinn kept the girl from laying down beside her. "No, San. Please…just…stay there."

"Q, I didn't choose her…you're both my best friends." Santana stated exasperatedly, clearly not happy with being held back. She'd never turned away the girl's affection before, and it was clearly freaking Santana out, by the hint of frantic worry in her voice. "Come on, blondie, I wouldn't lie about that, I…"

"San, you chose her, and…and you didn't even see me, okay?" Quinn clarified, but the faint confused huff that her best friend let out only confirmed that she'd need to step away from her vague wording. "She was always more special than me, and I hated that. I love Britt, but I hated that."

Again, she was met with an exasperated sigh, Santana clearly getting really frustrated with her, and the girl's lack of ability to discern what she was saying only twisted the knife more. "Quinn, we were fucking partners, the two top HBICs of McKinley, the only person I could ever scheme about anything with. You're pretty fucking special too, so why the fuck are you telling me this?"

At that, Quinn got up off the couch and took a few steps away from her friend, hoping that it would help her say what she needed to say, and knowing that if things went wrong, she could walk away and Santana would be safe and cozy on the couch. "You'd get this look in your eye whenever she was around, you know. You always tried to be this stone-cold bitch at school, but whenever you looked at her, I'd see a hint of a smile on your lips. And when she'd dance…well, you'd look at her another way. And if you were anyone else I would have thought it was cute, or sweet, or something, but all I knew was that you never looked at me like that. I used to dream you'd look at me like that." Quinn spoke with a calm that surprised even her; she avoided Santana's gaze, keeping it on the stairwell to her right instead. It wasn't as if any expression of Santana's face would surprise her, or that any confirmation of what she knew was true would hurt her any more than she had already been, but it was harder to speak when the girl was staring into her eyes. "But I was never special enough to fall in love with, and…and I can't hate you for that, but I hate that Britt got that from you and she didn't even care. That she just…I…look. I'll be back downstairs to give you some meds in a bit, alright?"

And with that, she took off upstairs at a decent pace, the words she'd spoken having sapped all of the courage out of her body and mind. Quinn quickly found herself in the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She still literally had some dried blood on her hands from when Santana fell, and she supposed that the place she went to hide away was a good one to help her clean that up.

So she washed her hands thoroughly in the freezing cold water; Quinn washed them three times before she decided that maybe a bath would be better. But then she remembered that the power was out, and without the hot water heater, it'd just be unbearable.

So Quinn spent most of the next hour prepping for bed, the room around her lit by candlelight. It was pretty late, and she was feeling more or less exhausted after the day's events. Still, she knew that she still had a responsibility to check on Santana.

Tossing on a robe, Quinn made her way down the stairs barefoot, the cool wood refreshing against the soles of her feet. Her gaze quickly found the couch, but it was empty, and it took a moment for her to realize the girl was sitting down in front of the fireplace, a little too close for Quinn's liking. Quietly, she tiptoed behind her friend and into the nearby kitchen, pouring a glass of water and taking a small handful of pills for Santana to take.

She hadn't been waiting for Santana to come upstairs and find her. The fact that she hadn't didn't change anything, because Quinn understood that life was a whole lot different than in the movies. That there was little room for ultimatums in situations like that, and even less need to get one's hopes up after springing something like that on a life-long friend. Still, though, Quinn couldn't help but be nervous as she walked back into the living room, her feet leading the way to Santana's side.

The girl remained silent, her gaze unwaveringly fixated on the flames before her. Taking it as a sign that Santana didn't want to talk, Quinn swallowed her nerves and placed the glass and pills on the coffee table behind her. "I'll just leave you with some water and some light painkillers. I'm…I'm gonna go to bed, okay?" she asked softly, not sure whether she wanted Santana to keep ignoring her, or if she wanted the girl to speak to her. It hurt either way, only if just as a reminder that she may have irreparably damaged her friendship with the girl. "Night, San."

After waiting a second or two for any kind of feedback, Quinn nodded and retreated back toward the staircase. She knew it was a long shot, but any time either of them slept over at each other's place, Santana would wish her sweet dreams; just hearing the absence of that confirmed that things had changed between them, and certainly not for the better. Worse yet, she was stranded in her cottage with an amazing girl who probably hated her.

* * *

Nothing made sense anymore, and hours upon hours of staring into the fireplace as if it was some magical entity capable of answering riddles of the sphinx certainly didn't help at all. Santana's mind kept replaying that same conversation over and over again, mixed in with little past events that seemed more important in retrospect, but it was all too baffling to comprehend.

Quinn was straight. If someone asked earlier in the day if there was one thing Santana could bank on as a truth, her answer would have been that Quinn was as heterosexual as a girl could be. Sure, she'd known about the blonde's cold, loveless relationships with Finn, Sam and Puck, but every time she'd comforted the girl over the breakups or during lonely spells, Quinn would always talk about how she just needed to meet the right guy. Even in her hormonal swings during her pregnancy, that didn't shift.

And that wasn't even it. Santana had been on the lookout for girls who could appreciate girls ever since she'd entered the hallowed halls of McKinley; it was why she had targeted and befriended Britt, who was the only Cheerio aside from herself who ogled the others on their squad. It turned out that Britt was simply curious, but it wasn't as if Santana missed anything along the way. She'd always watched Quinn closely. The girl had been her first crush, and whenever she was in that treehouse with the blonde, she'd often just pretend that they were a little closer than friends. Hey, her mami always told her that love was love, and she had developed a sort of puppy love way back when. It was a few months after Lucy had come back from camp as Quinn, a hyper-heterosexual bombshell that couldn't stop talking about boys and Jesus, that she made herself get over the blonde.

Even still, she'd given the girl plenty of opportunities to prove her wrong; Santana had held a lot of sleepovers where she'd end up in her underwear, or wearing some lingerie under the excuse that she always went to be in style. She'd held countless pool parties, and had massaged gallons of suntan lotion onto the blonde. Time after time, the blonde simply ignored her, didn't look at her, avoided eye contact, or simply didn't react. Santana knew she had a kicking body, and if blondie had been interested, the girl would have looked or touched.

Quinn was straight. Or, well, so she'd thought, but the girl had turned her world upside down with her confession. And Santana wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, or even what she wanted to do. It had been a while since she'd been in love with the girl, and ever since then, they'd been on rocky ground, but it was at least nice to know where Quinn stood for once. The HBIC had always been elusive about so much, and it was really great, if confusing, to finally have answers to questions she'd been asking herself for a long time.

Santana wasn't really sure what time it was, but her meds were wearing off again, and she was pretty damn tired. Still, her brain was a mess, and despite brief efforts to sleep, she'd always found herself back in front of the fireplace after a few minutes. It was at least starting to get lighter outside, which let her know that she'd spent entirely too much time where she'd been sitting, so Santana got up and moved to the kitchen.

Her body still ached something fierce, but it was already feeling a fair bit better. She'd been stretching during her little all night soul-searching session, and that seemed to have helped. Her tired eyes caught sight of the oven clock, finding that it was half past seven, which only set her body into a state of voracious hunger. It had been nearly twenty four hours since she'd last eaten, Santana realized quickly, so she figured since Quinn hadn't been as hospitable as a Stepford wife, that she'd get food for herself.

The fridge and freezer weren't heavily stocked, and thanks to the cool temperatures, everything seemed totally fine. Still, she wasn't about to take any chances on letting the good stuff go bad, so she pulled out a package of bacon and some eggs. Most didn't see her as the type, but she liked to camp sometimes, and those were the precious few times she'd been free of the wrath of Coach Sue. Which, of course, meant that she'd have the chance to make excuses for eating the worst, most fatty and delicious foods, like bacon and eggs. And maybe, she'd kind of wanted to be able to make a certain blonde a nice breakfast if the girl had ever decided to join her. Santana eyed up the ingredients and pegged it at a fifty-fifty chance that she'd end up setting the cottage on fire, but a tasty breakfast was totally worth it. She took a moment to scour the kitchen for the final resource, only finding two paper bags that were usable, meaning the rest of the bacon would need to be made another way, or put back into the freezer.

It wasn't long after she got started cooking the bacon and eggs that she heard footsteps on the floor above her. Quinn was never much of an early riser, but the girl had a nose for bacon. It was almost as if it was some primal, instinctual need; she and Britt once managed to get Quinn to sleepwalk to the kitchen during a sleepover by making it. Even after they'd startled the girl out of her stupor, Quinn recovered ridiculously quickly and subsequently attacked the pile of bacon they'd made.

She listened as Quinn made her way down the stairs, footsteps stopping at the edge of the living room. "San? What are you doing?" she heard the blonde ask, her voice still groggy and dazed from her post-sleep state.

"I got hungry, so I'm making breakfast." She answered, keeping an eye on both bags of food hanging over the fire; both of her hands held them steady on pokers, keeping the bags of food at a nice, healthy height for cooking.

"But I smell bacon." Quinn noted curiously as she padded toward Santana, kneeling beside her. She watched the blonde bite her lip, her gaze locked intensely on the paper bags hanging over the fire. Santana wanted to laugh at how Quinn would sniff the air every once in a while, or how she was clearly antsy and impatient beside her, constantly shifting in how she was sitting. The girl's words didn't need a response, because she knew the blonde could smell bacon a mile away; Quinn just wasn't used to not being able to watch it cook, and not being able to tell when it'd be done, and that was apparently a sort of advanced torture by how the girl was squirming.

Santana couldn't help but smirk victoriously when she pulled the bags away from the fire and to the steel tray nearby, happy to have food to eat, and happy that her friend was acting normal again. Quinn immediately darted over to the other side of the tray, eyeing the bags hungrily, somehow having managed to get a fork in her hand, despite Santana having forgotten to bring some out from the kitchen. "One of these is mine, alright?" Santana warned, pointing at Quinn in warning before rushing off to the kitchen to grab a fork. She knew the deal; if Quinn managed to eat all of her own bacon before Santana returned, then she'd help herself to the other bag. Thankfully, Quinn was only two slices in when she got back.

"You're a bacon wizard, San. I didn't think this was possible." Quinn noted breathlessly as she absolutely devoured the bacon and eggs.

She laughed at the title, deciding to just silently accept it. If someone could wield magic through bacon, Quinn would know. "I learned it for when I'd go camping…I still prefer it all smoky and crispy, but this is good too. I know you didn't want your bacon to go to waste." Santana said, taking a bite of her egg, feeling a little bit better with food in her stomach. It felt kind of normal again just enjoying breakfast with Quinn. It was nice.

"I had a dream that I was the queen of the bacon kingdom, and Puck kept abducting all my bacon peasants before I could cook them and eat them. It was kind of depressing and strange." Quinn stated sadly, and it was all too ridiculous for Santana not to laugh at, almost snorting egg out of her nose at the girl's words. "Shut up! I…come on, it's not THAT funny!"

"You're such a tyrant, Q." she shook her head at the whole notion of freaking bacon peasants, and got back to her meal as soon as she calmed down enough to eat again, taking some more meds with it to stem the tide of pain that had been growing again. Santana smiled at how entirely content Quinn was as the girl finished her meal. "You know, those bacon peasants had families."

"Can you cook them up too? I'm still malevolent and hungry for bacon." Quinn said with a pout, and Santana almost got up and grabbed the rest of the pack that was sitting in the fridge. Because hey, bacon was delicious, and she was in a good mood and shit. She just wasn't sure how much Mama Fabray would enjoy bacon grease on the floor of the fireplace, now that she'd run out of bags.

"Sorry, no more paper bags, so no more bacon, Queen blondie." she noted as she stretched, deciding that since she'd eaten, it was time to head somewhere comfy and let it digest. Santana lazily walked over to the loveseat and flopped down onto it.

She was face-down on the cushions, so she could only listen as Quinn's footsteps grew closer, the girl seeming to pick the armchair by her feet given the slight squeak of the leather recliner. "You sleep well?"

"Didn't." she grumbled out, arms reaching for a cushion, blanket or something, but found nothing of use. Her annoyed huff didn't seem to bring her any sympathy from Quinn, who laughed airily and placed a cushion on the back of her calves, entirely out of reach. "Q…" she whined, trying to use her legs to move it within reaching distance, but they were sore, and she was sluggish, so it fell to the floor.

"San, you're so pathetic when you're tired." And while the humour in Quinn's voice was nice to hear, it also sucked to hear that the truth was out. Santana was a total pathetic grump of a person when she was sleepy. "I'm sorry you couldn't sleep. It…it was probably really cold down here last night."

And just like that, the mood shifted, and Santana wished she was somewhere else, where she didn't have to confront the jolly pink and purple elephant in the room. "Could've kept me company, Q." she shot back, though she kept her tone as soft as possible. She didn't blame the girl for telling the truth or whatever, it just sucked because it was so stupidly confusing, and the blonde didn't stick around to help her understand.

"We both know you didn't want that." Quinn said immediately, and all Santana could do was groan as she turned herself over; her shoulder was feeling less tender, but it still stung pretty seriously.

"Actually, it sounds like both of us missed the boat on shit, Q. I needed you down here last night, because I thought you were straight, and I couldn't sleep until I went through every scrap of my memory for any freaking sign, okay?" she spoke calmly, eyes closed in an attempt to not lash out or say anything stupid, because she was kind of pissed for being left to think by herself, when the blonde knew all too well that she was really bad at handling that. It was a big reason why she always took so freaking long to come to terms with major shit in her life; she couldn't talk to Britt about her feelings for her, and there weren't any lesbian role models to go to, so she'd dealt with it on her own and that had taken forever. When her parents had divorced, she'd gone to Quinn, because she needed her as a sounding board, to help keep her thoughts organized and everything. She was admittedly horrible at thinking things through when it came to herself, so it had made for a long, tiring, difficult night after Quinn had left for bed.

The room was quiet for longer than Santana expected, though she could heard the blonde breathing, along with the odd hum or intake of breath that didn't lead to any statements. "Britt told me you wouldn't talk to her about any of that so I just figured…" Quinn finally broke the silence after a few awkward minutes, and Santana couldn't help but be relieved, because like hell if she was just going to talk without some back and forth shit. She wasn't Rachel Berry, Santana didn't ramble. She ranted. There was a difference, and she always needed someone to yell or talk back to her.

She waited for the blonde to continue, but after a few seconds it became clear she'd have to take matters into her own hands again. "I was in love with Britt. It's been a long time since I was in love with you, Q, so right now, I'm just stuck with the idea of you swinging for the home team." She noted, raising a hand as she heard Quinn about to respond to her. "No, don't fucking speak yet, okay? You know I'm like the least rational, most cowardly thinker there is, and you left me down here with questions that had answers that didn't make sense. It was like going to an exam review session and instead of prepping for history like I expected, it was all calculus, and I haven't taken calculus all year and I was pissed. I needed you. "

"Why is it so impossible to believe I like you?" Quinn asked, and Santana had to scoot backward and sit up against the armrest, needing to look at Quinn for this.

"Because I flirted with you like a damn succubus and you never batted an eyelash!" Santana stated exasperatedly, deciding a little dramatic arm waving would be good to show the girl how frustrating that had been.

Quinn just looked back at her in confusion, her mouth gaping slightly as her head slowly cocked to the left in a gesture Santana knew as disbelief. Which Santana thought was fucking ridiculous because she hadn't been subtle at all. "What? When?"

"When you came back from cheer camp? For practically half of our freshman year? Remember I'd compliment the heck out of your legs? How at our first major party, I did a tequila shot off them and felt you up? Or maybe, when you strained your leg in that practice a week before state…remember when I helped you shower and I always let the loofah linger in spots, or make a few extra rounds on places I'd already washed. Fucking hell, I must have told you that you were hot, like…a million times, and all I'd get from you was this appreciative little smile, and that was awesome but seriously." She ranted, but Quinn only seemed more confused, her facial expression constantly shifting as if she were reliving some of those moments, occasionally blushing in spots.

"I just…I thought that was just for show…you flirted with everyone, San." Quinn retorted, and the girl had a point, kind of. Only partially, really, because she didn't flirt with everyone.

"I flirted with all the guys because I was supposed to, but girls? Just you and Britt." Santana clarified, which seemed to help the blonde understand somewhat, though the girl fixed her with a questioning stare.

Quinn took a few moments of unnerving staring to formulate a response, which kind of sucked, but she knew that the blonde sometimes took her time to choose her words, something Santana rarely took the time to do. "Because you loved Britt, but…why me if you thought I was straight?"

"Britt was the only other girl who looked interested. That's it, so I flirted with her. And like I said last night, I didn't want to lose you. You came back from camp this changed, new person, and I did everything I could to keep you by my side." She answered, drawing a slow nod from Quinn, who was watching intently, looking a bit apprehensive. "You said I've never looked at you like I did with Britt, but that's bull, Q. I fell in love with you two months into grade four…you were my girl, my Lucy Q. I only looked at Britt like that when I got over you." She finished sheepishly, drawing her knees closer to her chest so that she could hug them. Because fuck it, she kind of wanted to hug something, and the cushion was too far away.

"You loved me?" Quinn choked out, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, and fuck she didn't want the girl to cry. Seriously, she could never handle seeing Quinn cry, it was just too hard on her heart.

She gave the blonde an apologetic look, and thankfully, the girl at least stopped from spiraling into a sob-fest. "That's why you changing into Quinn scared me, because I fell in love with Lucy, and I knew I probably didn't have a chance with her, but Quinn? I saw a girl that all the boys would devour if you only let them, so I had to compete. So I flirted the fuck out of you, and nothing worked." She explained, holding back her own emotion as memories of freshman year came back to her. Getting over Quinn wasn't an easy task, considering how they were both in Cheerios, so she'd had to be innovative. "So I chased Britt because she was interested in experimenting, I fucked a few guys who couldn't hold a candle to when I'd sit on my bed and think of you, all to try and piss you off and spite you…and I bitched you out whenever I couldn't take being around you, which wound up being most of the time. So excuse me for trying to move on and find some fucking happiness, Quinn. I'm sorry that you only missed me when I was gone…I really am, okay? But I saw you. I looked at you THAT WAY for years. You were fucking special enough for me, and you're right…Britt didn't care enough, but you never knew even after years of me saying everything but a select few words."

Santana took a few calming breaths after her outburst, keeping her eyes focused on the hands resting on her lap. She could hear Quinn's quiet sobs resurface and spill out. Somewhere along the line, she couldn't help but compare the blonde to Finn in a way, and how the boy only seemed to want what he couldn't have. Santana cringed at the thought of Quinn being like that, knowing the girl's history of being told she wasn't good enough, and her history of getting things to 'fix' herself, of hiding behind her faith and image. She didn't want to be a band-aid over the girl's heart just because they stopped being BFFs. In a way, Santana was thankful that the blonde hadn't acted on her flirting back then, because it seemed that Quinn needed a proverbial kick in the ass to get to realizing what she really wanted.

"Oh God…" Quinn gasped out between sobs, and Santana couldn't help but lift her gaze toward the blonde, who was about as upset as she'd ever seen her. The girl kept repeating that phrase as she cried, and it became clear that Quinn wasn't in any state to say anything else.

"Get your ivory ass over here, Q." she called out, not at all unkindly, but perhaps not as soft and soothing as the blonde may have liked. Quinn's bloodshot eyes shot open and met her gaze, the girl's face looking entirely apprehensive, even if her body was practically screaming 'hug me'. Santana opened her arms and gestured with them for Quinn to join her.

Like a bat out of hell, Quinn shot off the recliner and practically leapt onto her, hands immediately clutching onto the front of her sweater as the blonde cried into her chest. It wasn't exactly Santana's first choice of scenario where the blonde would bury her pretty little head into her breasts, but she'd take what she could get, she supposed, one arm wrapping around Quinn's waist as the other held the girl's head close. It was nice to have that closeness back; Santana had missed that over the past years.

Santana did her best to calm her friend, whispering sweet, reassuring words into her ear, lightly rubbing the small of her back, that sort of stuff. But honestly, she still kind of sucked at it, and Quinn was still crying minutes later, even if it was a little softer. "Q, if I tell you a way to cook the rest of the bacon, will that make you happier? You know I get all sad and awkward when you're upset, and I don't want you to be upset. I want you to be happy, and bacon makes you happy, right?"

The blonde nodded hesitantly against her chest, and Santana could tell the girl was trying really hard to stifle her sobs, hiccuping and everything like she was. "Yeah, but…you make me happy too. I am hungry, though…"

Santana laughed at the girl's voracious appetite for bacon and slipped her hand under the girl's chin, lifting it from her chest so that she could see Quinn's hazel eyes in the wintery morning light. "So how about this then. We're trapped in here, right? No power, snow surrounding everything?" Santana asked, earning a slight nod from the blonde, who pushed herself off Santana and moved to straddle her thighs. "Well, I'm sleepy, and feeling kind of a bit better about all this right now. So…I mean, if it's alright with you…and sorry if this sounds totally backwards and everything…"

"San, spit it out, please. You're making me nervous." the girl spoke worriedly, Quinn's hazel orbs looking at her in earnest concern.

"I…I was wondering if you could go on a date with me? I mean, we've got candles, and food, and we still probably…" Santana started, but was quickly interrupted by Quinn's arms pulling her into a tight, suffocating hug. She winced a bit at the ripple of pain that erupted from her shoulder; thankfully Quinn seemed to notice her body tense in pain, quickly pulling away, her face red from blushing.

"I'd love to, San." Quinn noted softly, her adoring stare almost too much for Santana to take. It was so ridiculously weird to even consider dating Quinn, but they were both single, and they'd both liked each other a lot at one point.

Santana just needed to know if she could love Quinn as much as she loved Lucy. Luckily, they were stranded for a while, and had plenty of time. And at least twelve more strips of bacon.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this kind of grew to great lengths. I kind of wanted to run with a semi-reciprocal Quinntana story, where nothing's really settled by the end of it. Kind of inspired by a friend of mine who was kind of like Quinn here (whose BFF was in love with her for years, and she only realized she felt similarly once her BFF finally moved on, except their sexualities were both known at the time, and people used to tease her about her and her BFF's 'relationship'.)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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